


Empty Seats Break Strong Vows

by uncagingwardens



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Breaking Celibacy Vows, F/M, First Time, Hawke is a virgin, Here Lies the Abyss Spoilers, Sebastian is obv not, Wall Sex, only minor inquisitor/cullen though if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncagingwardens/pseuds/uncagingwardens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian learned the Maker's seat is empty, and his first thought is to take his wife in a manly fashion in Skyhold's wine cellar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Seats Break Strong Vows

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Sebastian, so this may possibly be utterly ooc.

Sebastian Vael, crown Prince of Starkhaven, brother of the Chantry and husband to one Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall and crowned its Viscount in the days after the fall of the Chantry. Such woman was now at Skyhold, battling with the newest threat to all their lives. A Tevinter Magister risen from the dead and corrupted with the reddest lyrium piercing and grown with his face, and a bleeding Archdemon, leaving him on the throne to try and calm his people.

After a single month of separation from the woman of his heart’s purest desire, he could take the isolation no longer and rode for Skyhold, finding the party on their way to Adamant Fortress, and the severity of such a task was not revealed to him until the armies arrived, and the archdemon in question swooped down and the entire party fell into the Fade, including his Hawke.

Heart lurching and arms burning, the archer prince speared demon after demon from his perch until the Fade tore open once more and spat the party out, Hawke tumbling out coated in unrecognizable viscera, inky black hair a tangled mess, but blue eyes dancing over targets as she engaged in deadly dances with the demons around her, daggers burying themselves in any available form that was not a friend.

When the battlefield fell silent and the Inquisitor nearly collapsed from exhaustion, being collected by the Commander, Sebastian leapt down from his spot and grabbed the Hawke close, burying his face against her cheek as he held her securely, earning a heavy sigh from his wife as she leaned a tired body into his own. He prayed to the Maker in thanks for returning her to him more or less whole and safe.

They rode back to Skyhold together on his steed, Marian nodding off once or twice over the ride as Sebastian held her tight, pulling his cloak around them both.

Once safely back at Skyhold, Sebastian overheard the Inquisitor begin debriefing the Commander, who was once a Chantry Templar, as well as the rest of the Advisors as they headed to the War Room.

“… No, no seat or anything,” she replied to Josephine, voice a bit tense. He knew she was of the Trevelyan lineage, large contributors to the brothers and sisters of the Chantry in Ostwick. She was no doubt in training for the cloister before this whole catastrophe began.

He… He knew he needed to speak with Hawke.

He found her chatting with Varric over what looked like brandy, a hand running through her hair. He approached, gently touching a hand to her back. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” He began, accent thick. Hawke gave him a gentle smile, “You’re not, Sebastian.”

“I need to borrow my wife, Varric,” He said with a slight smile, not nearly reaching his eyes. She blinked, murmuring a quiet ‘excuse me’ to Varric before rising from her seat and letting Sebastian lead her away.  


They ended up in the lower catacombs when Sebastian stopped her in a secluded corner, beside the walls lined with old dusty bottles.

“The seat of the Maker, was is there?” He asked, voice rough and full of barely reigned in emotion. Marian sighed heaving, resting a rough hand on his face, “No, Sebastian, I’m sorry.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath before pinning her to the wall, earning a surprised gasp from her chapped lips, which he captured in a hard kiss. He was furious and upset, but he knew he needed to fulfill something long overdue, his duty as a husband had gone incomplete for long enough. Now that what he put stock in for the whole of his life was now a lie, he could do little but listen to the deep need he’d shoved down. As he broke the contact, the prince glued his mouth to her neck and it took a minute for her brain to catch up enough to speak. 

“Sebastian!” She squeaked, digging a hand into his hair as large hands found her hips and dragged her close.

“Marian,” he mumbled, lifting his head to lock eyes with her, “A majority of my life has been an utter lie, the Maker and Andraste have abandoned us, possibly long ago, and I have wasted far too much time believing in a falsehood in order to ignore my wanting you as a husband should desire his beautiful, ravishing wife.” He leaned closer, brushing his lips over her ear and whispering to her, voice gone rough and oh-so _sexy_ , “No longer.”

Hawke flushed as red as the swath of warpaint over her nose, tilting her head back as he planted his mouth to her neck, sucking and biting the skin like a man possessed. She’d heard the stories of the youngest Prince of Starkhaven being absolutely insatiable, and did not know the prince, only the brother. Marian now knew she was getting a taste of the prince himself, and damn if it wasn’t thrilling.

He marked her neck in the most perfect ways, making her legs wobble a bit as she tried to keep from sagging to the floor as she felt her body grow hot, desiring his touches. Seeming to know this, the Prince began stripping her out of her champion’s armor, letting the leather-and-metal pieces fall to the floor with small clatters. Marian helped as best she could, while also trying to work out how to get her husband’s blasted armor off of him, Andraste’s face glinting lowly in the candlelight.

“Damn it all, Sebastian,” she hissed in annoyance, trying to tug his belt off, “Is this, like, chastity armor?”

He laughed a little, stepping back from her and stripping out of the glinting alabaster armor slowly, uncovering his skin piece by piece, making Hawke lick her lips as she tugged on her underclothes, tossing them aside, allowing Sebastian a full look at her body for the first time.

Once all armor and cloth was removed from them both, the Prince descended on her quickly, lifting her legs up and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her back to the cold, stone wall. His mouth caught her neck hard, biting and sucking like some animal. Hawke could do little but let out a loud moan, skin flushing as she locked her pale legs around his tanned hips, a hand twisting into his hair to keep his mouth to her skin. Arching her back as he left hot trails of kitten licks and nips over her chest, she keened in thick desire, pressing her sex against his straining manhood. He slid into her without preface, bowstring toughened fingers digging into her hips as a moan spilled from his lips, drawing an echoing one form his delectable wife in front of him. She tightened around him, a long overdue desire burning through her like wildfires as she shifted her hips, his thick cock stretching her wide, for Hawke had never taken another in her entire life.

He took he eagerness in stride, making languid movements into her as a thumb caught the nub at the apex of her sex, dragging circles over the sensitive skin and pulling gasping moans from Marian’s bite-swollen lips. She was not innocent, but even her own fingers had failed to feel this good on her. She cried out, his mouth sealing over hers, knowing the keep was still inhabited and the Inquisitor tended to wander all parts of Skyhold at any time.

He flicked the nub ever rougher, feeling her tighten and dig her nails into his back, the tension for so long restrained coming unbound in them both. Hawke came first, hips canting and her sex clamping hard on her lover as she cried his name unrestrained. Sebastian was too lost to burying himself in her slick heat to bother muffling his wife’s cries, echoing them himself a few moments after, filling her to the brim and letting some of his seed flow from around their joined bodies. She recovered before he did, panting and shaking and clinging to her husband like a lifeline, only now feeling the cold stone digging into her bare back, most likely leaving scrapes and dirt on her skin. Marian dropped her head to Sebastian’s rapidly chilling damp skin, softly mouthing at his skin as he came back into himself, sighing heavily and withdrawing his softening cock from her slick body.  
  
“Marian?” He murmured cautiously, rough hands palming at the soft skin of her hips, seeing the angry red marks he’d left from pinning her tightly.

She gently kissed him, stroking his face in reassurance and murmuring I love yous against his lips.

The Maker might not be real, but their marriage was, and now no one could say it wasn’t.

                                                                                        


End file.
